


Lilith

by Kairyn



Series: The Children of Crowley [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: 6000 Years of Pining (Good Omens), Chronic Pain, Crowley Has Self-Esteem Issues (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Kids (Good Omens), Crowley is Lilith, Crowley is a Mess (Good Omens), Demonic Possession, Demons, Fluctuating pronouns, Genderfluid Crowley (Good Omens), Hurt Crowley (Good Omens), Identity Issues, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Other, gone wrong, names are important
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:48:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22285882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kairyn/pseuds/Kairyn
Summary: A question from Adam has Crowley thinking about things over the past 6000 years.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley & Adam Young (Good Omens), Crowley/Satan | Lucifer (Good Omens)
Series: The Children of Crowley [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1604167
Comments: 8
Kudos: 157





	Lilith

**Author's Note:**

> So, this came to me as a mix of different thoughts sort of bashing into one another. One, the fact that a common fanon name for Nanny Crowley is Lilith. Two, Lilith being associated with Lamias (half snake half women) and just snakes in general. Three, Crowley's swagger and fluidity. Plus musing on what makes Crowley so very different from other demons. Honestly I like the thought that he just _is_ different because that's who he is but I like exploring different possible 'reasons' too. So, this was the result of all that.
> 
> Also: The pronouns for Crowley fluctuate wildly on purpose to try and encapsulate the gender fluidity of the character.

"Crowley?"

Crowley hummed to show he was listening but otherwise didn't even bother to lift his head. He was comfortable sprawled out across the park bench, soaking up the sun. It felt so very nice and heated his cold blood in the best way. "Who was my mother anyway?" Adam asked.

Though Adam couldn't really see it because of the sunglasses, Crowley's eyes snapped open. He forced himself to not react for several minutes. "... why the sudden curiosity, Adam?" Crowley glanced to the side and saw that Aziraphale was still busy buying the rest of the Them ice cream and such hadn't heard the sudden question. Crowley wondered if Adam had engineered it that way.

"You know, don't you?" Adam asked without answering the demon's question. "Aziraphale said that you were the one to give me to my parents and that Warlock was given to the parents I was supposed to get by mistake. So you probably know who my birth mother was. Don't you?"

Crowley resisted the urge to shift. He really wished Aziraphale hadn't decided to be so dratted honest. Brought up questions that didn't need to be asked. "I still don't know why the sudden interest," Crowley said. "I mean, you denied Satan, so why would you care who she is?"

Adam frowned a little and looked down at the grass beneath his feet. "Sometimes, I feel like I can remember her. Just bits and pieces, really. But... I can't remember _him_ at all, so I wasn't sure if maybe she was different from him somehow, and that's why I feel like I remember her."

The silence between them was filled with the quacks of the nearby ducks and the distant laughter and cheers of children. Crowley studied Adam for a moment before sighing. "How much Theology did your parents teach you?" he asked.

Adam shrugged. "I went to Sunday school a couple times," he said.

"Mmm." Crowley couldn't say he was surprised. The Youngs, while very nice people, didn't seem to be that strictly religious. Most of what Adam knew seemed to be instinctual. "Well, the first Adam had two wives. Eve was second and made out of his rib and all that. The first wife got mixed up with demons and was cast out before the whole apple thing. Her name was Lilith."

Adam was quiet as he absorbed that. "And she's my mother?"

"Yes," Crowley said.

Just then, the Them called for Adam to ask what he wanted, and Crowley shooed the boy off. Crowley tilted his head up even though he was frowning. He hadn't lied to Adam. He just... perhaps had left a few details out. But then, those details were best left out, in Crowley's opinion. He wasn't ready for them.

* * *

Crawley stormed through Hell in a thunderously terrible mood. The pits of sulfur and blood and other unpleasant substances were boiling, and the air reeked of all that and misery. Something squished wetly underfoot, but figuring out what exactly it was, seemed a waste of time. Crawley found the nearest set of stairs to go deeper into the pits. It only ever got worse the further down one went, but Crawley had a report to give, and he'd been down at the very bottom often enough that (while he doesn't prefer it), he was at least used to it.

As he passed Ligur, the other demon gave a start, "What the Heaven happened to you?"

Crawley glared. "Go boil yourself," he snapped. Crawley was in no mood to explain 'what happened' although he would have to explain it to Lucifer. That was different, though. One couldn't _not_ explain to Lucifer.

More demons than just Ligur stared or did double-takes as Crawley stormed past, but he ignored them. Lucifer's throne room was as unpleasant as one might expect with blazing fires and rusted chains and a throne that looked like torment to sit in with all the metal spikes and razor-sharp edges. The King of Hell tilted his head as Crawley came in, and his lips quirked in amusement. "Crawley?"

Crawley's face twisted into a sour expression. "Yes, Sire. It's me."

Lucifer's amusement seemed to grow, and he leaned closer. "What happened?"

Crawley crossed his arms, but the strange lumps of flesh hanging there were unsettling, so he uncrossed them and instead rested a hand on his still sharp but now slightly curved hip. "I was doing what you said. I possessed the second human and was tempting the first. Whatever his name was... but the Angels were watching too closely. I don't think they realized I was in the sad little mortal thing, but that didn't stop them from smiting her down to here. But, now, I can't separate from her!" It was infuriating.

Like two disparate pieces had been slammed together so hard that pulling them apart would just break everything more. Crawley couldn't even really tell where one started and the other ended. Lucifer was chuckling, and Crawley glared up at him despite how ill-advised that was. "It issssn't funny!" he hissed.

"Oh, come now, Crawley. Surely it's not that bad," Lucifer said, resting his head on his fist.

"You wouldn't be saying that if you were the one... fused with this lesser creature," Crawley spat. He could _feel_ her deep inside like sparks of something he'd lost in that fiery Fall from on high. He'd gone for ages without feeling it, and now that something resembling it was back or reawakened, or something, it was extremely uncomfortable. The demonic things he'd done down in Hell tore at him where he'd barely even thought about them before. It was like there was a little voice under his thoughts that didn't say real words but drew his attention anyway and made him second guess himself. Crawley had given up second-guessing things after it led him to such a horrible end the first time. But now those little questions and dissatisfaction were back, and it made his scales itch uncomfortably.

Lucifer hummed thoughtfully. "Can you still change your form? Perform demonic miracles?" he asked.

Crawley frowned but snapped his fingers off to the side. The fires around the room flared, and snakes poured out of cracks in the ground before Crawley snapped his fingers again to get rid of them. "Changing my form is harder," he admitted. "But I can do it. When I landed again, I was all... stuck halfway. But I managed to get it under control."

Lucifer's thick brow lifted. "Stuck? Stuck how? Show me."

Crawley huffed. He really didn't want to 'show' his humiliation, but Lucifer was even less forgiving than She was when it came to disobedience. So he closed his eyes and focused on that strange monstrous form that he'd had when he woke up back in Hell. It was hard. Changing shapes was painful in a way, and not losing concentration took all demons some practice. But Crawley had been getting the hang of it faster than most others.

The snake in him really showed through as his legs (which were always painful anyway, and he wasn't sad to lose them) melted into a long coil of muscle and thick scales. His nails grew to talons, as long and sharp as his own fangs. Scales as red as blood spread along his skin and clung to his curves, especially the fleshy additions that female creatures now had. Crawley thought they might be called breasts, although what purpose they served, he still wasn't clear. Down his spine, his black scales sprouted. He wasn't sure if they would be any actual protection, but they were there, merging seamlessly with his tail.

Lucifer hummed a little bit and got up from his throne. His footsteps were like Earthquakes as he approached where Crawley was swaying slightly. Staying upright was surprisingly hard without two limbs beneath him. It was less painful but required a bit of balancing to not fall over, especially with Lucifer's heavy steps shaking the ground. 

The King of Hell grabbed Crawley's pointed chin and forced him to move his head from side to side. Lucifer examined Crawley's sharp features. Crawley's face hadn't changed too much, although certain parts had softened slightly or were now angled differently. "It suits you, Crawley," Lucifer said, running his thumb along Crawley's cheek where a few little scales had grown. It let the sharp black claw on Lucifer's thumb come frighteningly close to Crawley's large reptilian eye, but Crawley did his best to not react. Showing fear was the biggest mistake one could make in Hell. Lucifer hummed again. "Since you can shift and perform miracles... I don't see the problem. You can just go back up there and continue your task."

Crawley blinked, not really surprised that Lucifer didn't see the _clear_ problem but more that he wanted Crawley to continue. "What do you want me to tempt him to do?" he asked. Crawley's first orders had been to convince the 'man' (Adam or whatever) to do something immoral with a demon (easy enough when a demon was inhabiting his wife), but that wasn't going to be easy now that the Angels had tossed said wife down to Hell. 

"I don't care. Be creative. Cause trouble," Lucifer said firmly, holding Crawley's chin tightly. "Or I'll consider this less amusing and instead: a failure to actually punish." 

A shiver went down Crawley's spine, but he nodded. "Of course." He didn't want to be punished for failing Lucifer. He liked his skin on his body rather than the wall.

"Good, and I'll let the others know that they should flee mortal bodies before they die to avoid such... accidents in the future," Lucifer said with a long glance down at Crawley's body. He still seemed amused much to Crawley's annoyance. "Now, go."

Not particularly wanting to go up in his current form but also not wanting to disobey and suffer the consequences, Crawley shifted into a snake fully to slither back to the Garden. She had apparently already replaced 'Lilith' with a woman named 'Eve' while Crawley had been below. Had he been gone a long time? Or had She just moved quickly? Crawley still wasn't entirely certain how this whole 'time' thing worked, he hoped he got the hang of it soon.

Crawley found a fairly easy temptation to do with an apple tree full of knowledge that the mortals were forbidden from eating. Eve was terribly easy to convince to take an apple despite that. He hadn't quite anticipated both mortals being kicked out of paradise. Was knowing evil from good really such a bad thing? He hadn't thought it would be that big of a deal. Sure, they were breaking the rules, but honestly... Crawley had settled for the first thing he'd spotted and had figured he'd build up to something worse than eating a stupid apple.

When Crawley spotted the Angel on the wall, half of him wanted to flee from the Angel so as to not be smote back to Hell yet again. But those fragments of less demonic bits from that mortal weren't afraid or cautious. Before he realized what he was doing, Crawley was shifting his shape. He was glad, however, when he managed to find his first demonic -more androgynous- form rather than the one he'd gotten from fusing with Lilith. 

The Angel was... different from what Crawley had anticipated. Not only did he not smite a demon down immediately, but he had _given away_ his flaming sword! He was bizarrely adorable in a way Crawley hadn't thought of anything in what felt like... what was a good 'time-y' word? Lifetimes, perhaps. And then the Angel lifted a wing to protect him from the first rainstorm of the world. Crawley felt affection that probably should have been impossible but was there and real nonetheless. They stood there for a long while, just watching the humans wander off into the wilds, occasionally saying something to the other but otherwise just being with each other. And Crawley was impossibly fond.

Lifetimes of humans went by, and Crawley slowly got used to the strange merging that had happened between him and Lilith. It was an odd sensation sometimes. Not like a possession or as if she were still there in his mind a living, thinking thing. It wasn't like he could hear her voice. But sometimes he couldn't shake the odd thoughts or impulses that rose up. They felt natural and unnatural at the same time. Sometimes the thoughts were easy to ignore. Other times he was driven more by her than anything else. He didn't really feel like Crawley anymore, but he certainly wasn't Lilith either. He wasn't sure what he was. Or if 'he' was even right. Sometimes he swore he wasn't anything or possibly 'she' but that would shift around from day to day or even moment to moment in some cases.

But, as he grew more used to the nebulousness of the merged existence he now had, it felt less unnatural, and he almost forgot about how it felt not to be mixed with Lilith. All the other demons had learned from his misfortune and fled any human body before it died, and they were stuck with a jumble of bits and pieces of lesser creatures. Making sure that Crawley didn't get also treated lesser for having discovered this little complication was an effort that didn't always work, so Crawley spent less time downstairs and more time on Earth. He hadn't been all that popular beforehand and was less so now.

During his time on Earth, he discovered what 'children' were. They were delightful creatures, he thought. Or maybe Lilith thought. They both thought? It was hard to tell, but he enjoyed watching them and playing with them. They didn't seem to care what he was or that he sometimes did things that didn't fit with the other 'men' around. It was comfortable not having to match expectations as the children didn't seem to have them really. And they were delightfully chaotic in an oddly innocent way that was charming. 

Crawley was starting to dislike the name 'Crawley' immensely. It _felt_ wrong. Plus, he was starting to see how uncomplimentary it was. But he certainly couldn't call himself Lilith either. He'd tried that on occasion when he experimented with his form. It had fit better during those times but still didn't feel entirely right.

Crawley spotted the Angel again. Aziraphale. He couldn't help but be pleased to see the Angel and, despite the crowd, went straight to him. But then Aziraphale told him about the whole flood idea, and Crawley was immediately less enthused. Honestly! Who drowned kids?! It was mind-boggling and horrifying in a way very little had managed to be since he'd fallen.

He decided to thwart that even in a minor way was worth his time and smuggled several children onto the Arc. A few minor demonic influences kept Noah and his family from noticing they had five or so extra 'cousins' that hadn't been there before. Crawley wished he could save more, but there just hadn't been any way to do so. He was already going rogue to do what he had, he didn't have enough luck to push that far.

A while after the whole flood debacle, Crawley decided that they couldn't be known as Crawley any more. It was grating and wrong, and they couldn't stand it. So, after a little back and forth, they finally settled for Crowley. It was close enough to Crawley that the demons might actually use it eventually, and it wasn't so horribly demeaning as being called 'Crawley' all the time. Considering he couldn't go back to an Angelic name and Lilith never seemed to fit right either, Crowley seemed a good compromise.

Earth was getting populated again, and Lucifer decided Crowley should stay up above to constantly try and send mortals down darker paths. Crowley was glad enough to do it. There wasn't much appeal in returning to Hell, after all. But the more gruesome, Evil temptations were less and less appealing to Crowley. Low-grade annoyance and aggravation were far more amusing to him than tempting a man to beat his wife (or children) or causing massacres or some such. 

Crowley could no longer tell any real difference between 'Crawley' and 'Lilith.' It had been too long, so what little defined one from another had dissolved entirely. They were just Crowley now. Most demons that occasionally ran into Crowley had seemed to have forgotten the little mishap back at the beginning of the Garden, too, as it was rarely mentioned anymore. That was a relief, to be honest, and let Crowley relax into parts of themselves that they'd been denying. The demons still called them Crawley, but Crowley decided to not rock the boat about that. At least not right then. The more Crowley settled into themselves, the less intelligent or perhaps flexible the other demons seemed. They wondered why that was but had no real answer.

Then, God sent Her son down, and that was a whole thing. 

Crowley ran into Aziraphale again, which was delightful. Watching the poor Son of God getting nailed to a cross was less so, but it wasn't _really_ Crowley's business. That whole 'ineffable plan' and all. Ugh, they hated that phrase so much...

Crowley decided to spend some time in nicer, more metropolitan areas, and Rome seemed perfect. Aziraphale was there at one point, too, and under a much nicer circumstance, they decided to allow the Angel to drag them out to taste oysters. Aziraphale was still as charming as before, and Crowley found his company easy and comfortable. They didn't realize the feeling for what it was back then, but Crowley was already long since smitten with the Angel and often smiled when thinking about him.

While in Rome, Crowley was called back downstairs. Lucifer had been thinking and decided that, if God could make a son, so could he. Crowley, being one of the few demons that had been a creator back when they were Angels, had been tasked with trying to make the son of Satan. Lucifer didn't exactly want to hear how impossible it was. Crowley was a demon. A demon couldn't make things like the Angels or God could. Lucifer insisted, though, so Crowley tried to save himself a punishment.

It was easier to make things when tapping into that more feminine side of himself (possibly because it felt closer to Her), but it still didn't work like how Lucifer wanted. Crowley managed to figure out how to make living beings, but they were demonic in nature with twisted inhuman forms. Nothing that would be able to pass for humans to bring the world to destruction like what Lucifer wanted. Lucifer was furious, and all of Crowley's creations were considered 'lesser' demons because they hadn't even been Angels to start.

Crowley was less than pleased but learned quickly to not show that. It only made things _worse_ for those creations if the others knew Crowley was attached to them. Lucifer had never been known for patience, and as more and more lesser demons were made, Lucifer got more and more unhappy. After one particularly bad failure, Lucifer really lost his temper. The beating that followed was one of the worst Crowley could remember and was followed by Lucifer roaring for Crowley to get out of his sight. 

Crowley took that to mean 'go back to Earth' and put in for that position again immediately. They got it no problem and went back up where there was less chance of maiming for things beyond their control or being forced to create living beings that had nothing but misery ahead of them. Humans had gone places in the time since Crowley had last been surface side, and Crowley enjoyed exploring the changes. Plus, seeing happy children and being able to interact with them made her feel better. Less like a failure, anyway. She took care of several and protected them when she could get away with it. Not like there was a shortage of orphans for her to dote on in her free time.

Crowley's creations in Hell despised her for their existence. She couldn't say she blamed them and made a point to not antagonize the lesser demons if at all possible to avoid it. Crowley wondered if that was how She felt about demons after the Fall. The thought made Crowley uncomfortable, and so she didn't dwell on it long. So instead, she focused on human children, where she was actually able to do what she wanted.

It didn't take more than a decade for Crowley, operating under orders to sew dissent, to run into Aziraphale again. The Angel was a soothing balm to the pain Crowley was still feeling from his failure not that long ago. So, Crowley proposed an arrangement of sorts. Aziraphale was amusingly horrified by the thought of Crowley _lying_ to Hell about his work. As if Crowley wasn't a demon and lying came second nature. But Crowley was just so done with Hell after what Lucifer had put him through over the whole 'make me an Antichrist' thing.

Crowley quickly discovered that if he just claimed anything horrible happening was his idea and influence, nobody really checked his story. It was dangerous, he knew that, but he also didn't care that much. What could they really do? Torture him again? He was used to that after so long. Well, Crowley supposed they could destroy him with Holy Water or something, but he sort of doubted that he couldn't think up some way out of trouble before things got to that point. Besides, exaggerating his own deeds wasn't that big a deal.

The fourteenth-century happened. Horrible time. Crowley discovered a small village outside of London practically wiped off the face of the Earth by the Black Death. Except for a few starving children. Crowley moved her other kids that she'd gathered throughout the world and centuries into that village for the time being and looked after them. The church that was there was the only building made of stone, and though Crowley herself couldn't step foot in it, it was a safe place for them. Pestilence was 'encouraged' to retire after the Black Death debacle and was replaced, but that didn't mean much to the millions that had been wiped out from Pestilence's impatience. The whole world remained dreary for the second half of the century.

Crowley slept for a few decades here and there to make the fourteenth century go by faster. It only marginally worked. But, at least the plague and its aftermath did bring Aziraphale and Crowley together more regularly than before. Really, aside from the mortals that Crowley looked after, how often Crowley saw Aziraphale is what made that horrible century bearable.

Crowley's lies about his accomplishments became more of a big deal when Aziraphale actually agreed to the arrangement. So, Crowley became a bit more careful after that and started thinking about plans for if things went a bit pear-shaped. Luckily, the demons of Hell didn't seem any more inclined to check on Crowley than they did before, so he had time to think of something. Lucifer probably wouldn't buy any of Crowley's lies, but he still seemed annoyed with Crowley and content to ignore the Serpent. Crowley was fine with that. The less attention they got from Hell, the happier they would be.

The French went a bit insane. First, the whole Empire thing. Then they went and cut everyone's heads off. Crowley got a commendation for that even though he hadn't so much as whispered the word decapitation to anyone. Aziraphale, silly thing that he was, went and got himself in trouble, and then they went out for crepes. He wasn't sure when it happened exactly, but that was when Crowley realized his infatuation for the Angel had maybe grown quite a bit stronger. He hesitated with the word 'love' but really couldn't think of anything better to describe the feeling. Even more startlingly though, Crowley couldn't remember when he didn't have this feeling for Aziraphale.

Not even remotely ready to face that revelation, Crowley decided to keep himself busy. Crowley had slowly bought up all the land around the village that he kept his mortals at until he had a very healthy buffer. He was routinely doing occult things at the village and didn't need anybody catching on to his less than human nature.

When the Victorian era came by, Crowley had decided to build a house for the kids. Designing the manor kept him busy for a while, especially the gardens. Crowley left the church in the woods for the safety of the mortals (in case any other demons noticed them), but the church didn't have any sort of water within it. Crowley had figured that was the best sort of insurance he could get, but if he couldn't get it from the church, he had to find something else. So, Crowley decided to ask Azirahale for some. That turned out to be a mistake. Crowley should have realized that, but he was so dratted in love with the Angel he'd asked anyway.

The blow-up caused by the Holy Water incident encouraged Crowley to leave Aziraphale to his own devices for a while. Besides, he had an estate to protect. It took eighty-some years to get what Crowley decided was the best combination of mystic/occult security. Other manor houses were built during those eighty years as well but none to the level of Crowley Manor. They were all smaller, with plenty of space between them. Crowley had gotten his hands on quite a lot of acreage through various means and with different names. 

A couple World Wars happened, and Crowley had his hands full trying to keep the people he cared about from getting blown up or shot throughout the fighting. Aziraphale even got involved with Nazis through his own gullibility. If he weren't so endearing, Crowley might have been annoyed with him for that. Besides, the only harm done was to a church and some Nazis that were going right downstairs anyway. Crowley's feet _ached_ for a solid month after, but that wasn't a huge deal. His legs and hips ached most of the time, anyway. He'd gotten used to it.

After World War Two, Satan summoned him back Downstairs. Personally. Crowley was terrified that one of his many secrets had been found. But it was almost worse than that.

"I've figured out something, Crawley, Darling," Lucifer said.

"It's Crowley," Crowley said before he could stop himself.

Lucifer ignored him. Probably for the best. "Do you know what the difference is between Her son and the creatures you made?" Oh no. He was back on the Antichrist thing. 

"No, Sire," Crowley said. If he'd known that, he would have done it properly the first time rather than making so many demons that didn't even get simple respect from their peers. Treated like cannon fodder. That still hurt.

"It's really quite simple. Her son wasn't made from nothing. Her son was _born_ ," Lucifer said. His hoofed feet sounded like bones being crushed with each step. Crowley already wasn't fond of the direction of this topic and liked it even less with words like born thrown in. "So, you see, I've been trying to find someone suitable to birth my spawn. It's been impossibly difficult, darling. Mortals are so _fragile_."

Lucifer was behind Crowley now, and he could feel the King of Hell's molten hot breath against his own neck. "I tear them apart. Or my spawn does. It's very frustrating."

There was a pause, and Crowley was clearly expected to respond in some way. "... that's unfortunate."

"Isn't it, though?" Lucifer asked lightly before starting to circle again. "It figures that She would leave such a problem for me. Needs to be born from a mortal soul, but no mortal soul can bear the strain. It was really quite a conundrum."

"I can imagine." Crowley still wasn't sure why he was here, although he liked less and less where things were going. 

Lucifer grinned a terrible smile full of too sharp teeth. "Then, I remembered something I'd quite forgotten about. Do you know what it might be?" Crowley shook his head. "You."

"Me?" Crowley echoed. "What about me?" He certainly couldn't do anything about this. "I'm a demon. I can't help."

"Oh, but you're no ordinary demon, Crawley. I know you of all people haven't forgotten that little mishap back in the Garden. You were quite peeved about it," Lucifer said, still smiling. He leaned closer, and Crowley couldn't help the step back he took. "You've got a bit of mortal soul still in you. Never could figure out how to get it out, could you?"

Crowley had honestly forgotten to try after a few decades. The bits of Lilith had only grown more and more ingrained with the rest of him. He hadn't even thought of himself as two beings merged in centuries. "I'm a demon..."

"Mostly," Lucifer said casually. "Which means you'll probably even survive." Crowley took several steps back, and Lucifer seemed more amused than anything. "Don't worry, Crawley. I'll be gentle." Such an obvious lie.

Crowley didn't want any of it, but she wasn't given a choice. Even more horrible was that Lucifer seemed to have been right. She could survive the King of Hell 'breeding her' as he referred to it constantly. It was painful in so many ways, but Crowley tried to at least play it to her advantage when she could. Not many opportunities arose, but it wasn't as if any other demon had the 'honor' (dubious as it was) to be the King of Hell's concubine. It made her sick deep in her soul, but after, Lucifer clearly had no more use for her and let her flee. She did. Straight to Earth and her Angel and mortal children.

The decades had continued on, and it was the sixties, and Crowley attempted to put the reality of everything behind them. It was a time Crowley was able to heal some of the hurt in the vibrancy of Earth, and it worked well. Even more so when Aziraphale surprised him with a thermos of Holy Water despite what he'd said a hundred years prior. It gave him the courage to venture into Hell again for brief meetings. He even came up with the whole M25 thing in the seventies and was so proud of his own demonic genius that he risked going Downstairs for a whole explanation of the thing. Useless though that seemed to be since nobody seemed to even understand what he was talking about.

Crowley didn't see Lucifer during any of these trips. Crowley was so glad he couldn't even put it into words. If he had to face Lucifer again after... all that. He just might shatter all over the floor. They were pretty sure that they were barely holding on after all of that had happened.

The few decades that passed were helpful but not anywhere near long enough for Crowley to be ready when presented with a basket in a churchyard late at night. Crowley was, quite simply, a mess. He was just glad he managed to come up with any sort of plan to possibly avoid the end times. Even if it did fail when God decided to play a card game and get children bloody misplaced.

But now everything was settled, and the world wasn't ending, and Crowley just had to not think about all of that too much. They had a future to look forward to, which was odd but enjoyable. They'd like to just have a few decades of peace if that wasn't too much to ask. Surely She'd give that much. Right?

"Lilith?"

Crowley's eyes snapped open again, and he looked over where Adam was standing beside Aziraphale, who had returned with frozen treats. Aziraphale looked a bit confused as he sat beside Crowley and passed the Serpent his Lollie. "Yes... I remember her, but why ever are you asking? And how do you know about her, my boy? She's not the most common topic in church these days." Not that Adam really went to church. Said it had always made him itchy and uncomfortable. Not surprising, all things considered.

"Crowley said she was my mother," Adam said as he studied his ice cream. Crowley almost flinched when the Angel glanced his way. "I was wondering what she was like."

"Adam, she's a horrid, selfish creature. Not Mother material at all. I know she thought about killing _you_ once or twice," Crowley said. "You're better off tossing her in the same pile as Satan and moving on."

Adam frowned but didn't get a chance to respond. "Oh come now, Crowley. The Lilith I remember wasn't that bad. A bit misguided, perhaps, but she was intelligent and had a fantastic independent spirit. And she loved Eden. Took more interest in it than Adam did. He was most curious about the animals."

Crowley made a face. "Yes, well, time in Hell changes one," he said. "And if I remember, that 'fantastic independent spirit' was what got her kicked down below in the first place, yeah?"

"She was a bit ahead of her time, I'll grant. But that doesn't mean she would be a bad mother," Aziraphale said.

Crowley could have pointed out all the horrible failures they'd ever done but decided against that. It would be admitting too much. "She was evil enough to survive being with the King of Hell. That should tell you all you need to know, Adam," Crowley said. For several minutes it didn't look as if Adam would drop it. That he would keep asking questions, and Crowley was fighting hard against seeing parallels here. Finally, though, Adam nodded and ran off with Dog to play with his friends.

"He was just curious," Aziraphale said. "I don't think you needed to be so harsh."

"The truth isn't kind, Angel," Crowley said. "And who his Mother is wasn't the important part. It was who his Father was."

Aziraphale hummed before taking a lick of his cone. Crowley tried to not show how unnerved he was by the conversation. It trod too close to areas that Crowley preferred to remain buried. "... it does beg the question, though," Aziraphale said after several minutes. Crowley glanced over. "Why do you use the name Lilith as a woman if you dislike her so much?" Aziraphale asked.

Crowley was glad for his sunglasses, although they still didn't seem enough of a shield against the Angel. Aziraphale knew Crowley better than anyone else on Earth, Heaven, or Hell. No contest. Crowley shrugged. "Seemed an appropriately evil name's all."

"Crowley... you've always used that name," Aziraphale pressed. "Ever since I've known you. When you were a woman, it was 'Lilith' always. It just seems a little strange when you change so much else about yourself all the time. You didn't even pick Crowley right away."

"Aziraphale..."

"Yes, my dear?"

"... how's about we drop off the kids and then get some lunch?" Crowley tempted. He could tell from Aziraphale's expression he knew that Crowley was dodging, but the Angel, as wonderful as ever, let himself be distracted by the idea of a meal out. Maybe, someday, Crowley would be able to say something. But that was definitely not today. Or tomorrow. Probably not even a day this year.


End file.
